Deep In Her Heart
by LillyBear88
Summary: She was the icy Slytherin, with a frosty stare and a dramatic personality. He was the moronic,daring Gryffindor. Complete opposites. Yet she loved him. Why? Because he dared to be with her . . Sirius OC


**So, I've read allot of Sirius OC fics, and I decided that I'd try my hand at it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I do own Kianna and her mother.**

_

* * *

_

"Him.

_He was the man. The bad boy. The Marauder who loved pranks more than life itself. He was the famous Black boy, the one who had run away from home. He must have been special, seeing as his uncle had given him gold. The uncle that was now disowned, same as Sirius. Sirius was the one with many detentions, the first student in Hogwarts history to reach four digits. He was best friend to James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Padfoot. Moony. Prongs. Wormtail. One of the creators of the Maurauders Map. _

_He was also a famous womanizer. He was gorgeous. From his haughty chin to his elegant chin. His Black genes certainly hadn't done him any injustice._

_He had dark, shaggy black hair. Hair that was cut differently at all times. At one time it was long and straightened, the next year let loose in waves to his shoulders, and for many years, it was cut shorter on the top, and longer and shaggier on the sides. No matter the cut, his hair was dark, shining and lustrous. He had thin, cat like striking grey eyes, that always sparkled with some sort of emotion. He wasn't simply cute, he was darkly handsome. He had an air of casual elegance, and he loped around Hogwarts with his hands in his pockets. _

_He was the warm spirited, mischievous Gryffindor prankster. _

_She, on the other hand was quite a different story. _

_She was a pure blood. That was an easy thing to tell. Her dainty walking was very much without the manner of false airs and graces. Though her steps were graceful and lady-like, each step held a certain amount of power. She had the signature streak of pureblood arrogance and pride in her stride, and it entranced boys from all years. She had a sharp tongue, though was soft-spoken . Her face was always calm and composed; her demeanour perfectly executed. She was frosty and beautiful. _

_She was cold eyed, dramatic streaked, Slytherin Princess._

_She was gorgeous, befitting her title. From her empty silver grey eyes, to her golden tan, she was pretty. She was extremely short, but had long legs for someone her size, which created the illusion that she was tall. Actually, it didn't, but she insisted that it did, and you didn't argue with someone like her. Her hair was carefree and bouncing, the light brown color of her hair was subtlety streaked with a light honey blonde, and it reached halfway down her neck in waves. Her "Angelina" pout was set in a large heart shaped face, and her body was average, not astounding, but not awful either._

_And he dared to like her. Dared to sit next to her in class. Dared to gaze at her secretly in the Great Hall. Dared to hit on her._

_Naturally, growing up as a Pureblood, she had been taught to hate blood traitors like him. But something stumped her. Her parents had depicted blood traitors as awful beasts were cowardous and lying. He might be many things, but he was not a coward, and he lied only when necessary. She believed strongly in her parents teachings, until she met him._

_Somehow, he had caught the attention of the Icy Slytherin Queen. The unattainable, un touchable girl. Somehow he had gotten the affection of the Icy beauty. _

_Somehow he had attained the unattainable. _

_And he loved her. Boy did he love her. He loved everything about her, from her witty remarks, to her subtle curves. Her long, whispy lashes, that brushed her cheeks as she looked down. He loved the way she played it cool, and didn't give anything away. It made the thrill all the more satisfying to pry the emotions out of her. He loved the light freckles on her nose. _

_But it was a secret._

_Probably Hogwarts most shocking secret. Inter house unity was scarce, and even more rare between Gryffindor and Slytherin, though somehow he managed it. _

_They never met in public, instead choosing discreet places like empty classrooms and long forgotten secret passages. In the dead of night, while most boys were dreaming about being with the frosty beauty, he was living it. This gave him a sense of satisfaction, knowing that he had what others wanted. _

_But it worried her._

_For there had been a reason that all these years she hadn't let people in. She gave her heart away too easy, she never wore it on her sleeve of course, but it was the same situation. When she put herself into something, she followed through, though, she supposed this habit would have been less of a curse if she fell for pureblood boys, from powerful families. _

_Instead she fell for him_

_Him. The blood traitor. The run away. The sarcastic ladies men. The bad boy. _

_He was wrong for a woman like her. So wrong . . . that he might possibly be right. All the childishness had been pounded out of her at quite a young age. But Sirius brought it back. He made her feel things that she wasn't allowed to feel._

_And that thought scared her. _

_Scared her more than he could ever imagine._

_But the more time she spent with him, the more she fell. She fell deeper and deeper, and he was there to catch her. When she wanted him to, I suppose._

* * *

"So she loved him?"

_

* * *

_

"Yes

_But she was scared, she was scared that if she got too attached to Sirius, that she would be hurt. Trista had always been such a constant person, and it wasn't in her nature to move one and get over love. _

_She was worried that if their fling ended badly, she wouldn't get over it. She worried that Sirius didn't care as deeply for her as she did. Scared that the love was only one sided. _

_She didn't think that Sirius loved her. _

_And so she hated him for it."_

* * *

"She sounds very rude and confusing. Why'd he love her?"

_

* * *

_

" He loved everything about her. He loved the way she filled her clothes, the deep curve of her hips, and the fullness of her breasts. She looked like those girls on the cover of muggle magazines. She was beautiful.

_He loved the way she played it cool, but the way that her eyes gave her away. He loved that she never looked that pleased to see him, but inside was melting into his eyes. _

_She was pretty, and a fitty. She went through boys like tissues, and used them as such too. She was flirty, and enjoyed the attention that she got from the boys around school, but he loved that she enjoyed his the most. _

_He loved that she could make him drool by doing the simplest things. Like how her hips shook slightly as she walked, and the deep, well-like dimples on her pink cheeks appeared as she bit her lip. _

_He loved the way that she always wanted something new. A new place to meet, a new thing to do, a new thing to teach him. He loved her challenging nature, and the way that she was so sure of herself, even if she was wrong. "_

* * *

"Why'd she leave him?"

_

* * *

_

"Because. He was breaking her heart, slowly and surely. It was falling to pieces, and soon she feared that she would be as blue as the flecks in her silver eyes. It got the point where she couldn't decide if she was falling apart, or going insane. He was etched in her brain, and she knew that not matter what, she would always remember him.

_And that scared her._

_It scared her that his words stuck in her mind, spinning around like cyclones. That she cared so deeply about his opinion. That she cared what he thought of her._

_It scared her that no matter how much she tried to get a hold on him, he always slipped out of her grip. She was scared that he would forever slip from her grasp, but managed to keep the stay in her heart. _

_It scared her that Sirius would turn away, but as she tried to leave, he would beg her to stay. Beg her to hold him, and look into his eyes. Was it something that she had said? Or something she had done, to make him push her away?_

_He wanted change, yet at the same time, he wanted things to stay the same._

_And it scared her._

_She loved the way he smelled. And the way that he committed so hard to the things that he did. He committed, but not to her. He brightened up her day, and yet, she still wanted him to stay away. Because the effect of his presence, it worried her. _

_What worried her was the way that he seemed to be getting distanced. _

_What hurt her was the way she had found out._

_Found him with the stupid little black haired whore, chatting and giggling, with his old blue bathrobe on. She used to wear his bath robe. He used to stare at her like that. He used to pull her into his lap, and let her fall asleep on his arm, and wouldn't pull it away. Even as if fell asleep and went all tingly. _

_She was supposed to be in for a penny, and now she was in for a pound. She couldn't see herself anymore . . . not without him. How could she had been such a fool? She had forgotten the most important rule of falling in love._

_It was easy to get in, but almost impossible to get out. He was another sad case, a lost cause in most people's eyes. "_

* * *

" Mommy . . ." Little stormy grey eyes peeked up at the woman, whose own silver eyes were filled with unshed tears.

" I was the Slytherin Queen. Nobody could touch her, nobody could crack her. Except for Sirius Black," The woman mumbled, burying her nose into her daughters static riddle long wavy black hair. She looked so much like her father, from her darkly beautiful looks, to her pale skin. But her mother's features were also present in the young girls face. Her large pout, and wide smirk.

"Mummy . . .was he my daddy?" The eight year old asked, playing with a strand of her mother's long, wavy light brown hair, watching the honey streaks shine subtly.

"Yes, my darling. Kianna Inglebee, he was your father." The woman murmured, looking down on her daughter.

" Why doesn't he love me?" She asked, looking at the small photo of a young man with shaggy black hair, smiling next to a younger version of her mother.

"Shh! My sweet, your father loves you . . .and don't ever forget it . " The woman said fiercely.

"Does he still love you?" She questioned, not feeling her mother stiffen.

"Perhaps . . ." The woman looked out the window, her tan skin looked darker in the moon light.

"Do you still love him?"

"Forever and ever babe."


End file.
